


Shots.

by Photoshop



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adoption, Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Blankets, Character Death, Co-workers, Corpses, Death, Depression, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Drug Use, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Fear, Fear of Death, Fights, Forevver Alone, Friendship, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gun Violence, M/M, Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Police, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Red Ice (Detroit: Become Human), Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 15:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17583767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Photoshop/pseuds/Photoshop
Summary: Connor’s death. Hank’s suicide. Do not read if you have a suicide trigger.





	Shots.

It was never meant to be Connor. It was never meant to be anyone in that mission. Connor. Hank. Conan, the RK900 the team had just gotten, and Gavin. A drug bust. A red ice factory. It was routine for them. Five years after the revolution, you learn stuff. Three years after deviancy you feel. A year after being friends, you become like family. They were all close. Of course, people could still be assholes, but in the end, the four of them had been the red ice team of the DPD for the past four years. The dynamics were simple, as well. Connor was like family to Hank and Conan, Hank being a bit of a father figure, and Conan being something like a bigger younger brouter. Gavin was a friend to Connor, now. Prejudice was forgiven, and the motives behind why Gabin had hated androids made sense. He was scared he’d loose his job or life to them. Connor and Gavin were friends. Conan and Gavin, however, were lovers. Conan wasn’t as much of a son to Hank- more like a distant nephew. Gavin was a friend to Hank, but nothing more, and in the he still wasn’t the friendliest with Gavin. Fiends at best. Connor was his adopted son. Hank knew that after a year of their friendship, and a month after Connor started his complaints of deviancy and of being ‘parked’ in the station. He’d taken him in. They lived together. It was as simple as that. Conan didn’t have opinions on anyone in the group. He really wasn’t deviant, despite attempts to make him one. Gavin, if course, considered him a lover. He helped with that to keep their relationship good. But it was nothing besides codes in that. Gavin still had mixed emotions on everyone in the group besides Conan. And it was as simple as that.

They hung out together. Spent their days working together. Sure, they weren’t overly close. But they were friends, whether they liked it or not. Whether they felt it or not. They were friends. Best friends. They didn’t really have anyone else in their group besides themselves and the odd additional detective. But that wasn’t the lint. They’d grown close. The only meaning to that.

It was a Wednesday night. Twelve at night. A simple investigation. A simple drug bust. Routine. It was so regular- so why did it happen. Hank was protective of all of them. He was the first. He’d be the one to break down the door. Conan was behind him, along with Connor. Gavin was in the best back. It was a strategic thing. Hank being the tallest and most intimidating. Connor and Conan being twins, just one slightly more advanced and a lot stronger. And Gavin, in the back. He was the weakest in the group, from his height. But he was good with a gun. Had great aim. And could fight well. No one ever made jokes about it or mentioned the strength factor out of respect, however. Everyone was respectful about everything in their group. The only one who technically even had the right to be able to poke fun at the other three was Conan, and being a machine, he never did anything.

It hadn’t failed. The injuries sustained in these moments were small, and only would take a few months to heal. The worse was when Gavin had his arm broken by some jackass, but that was as far as it ever went. The team was strong. Connor had died a few times when it was just Hank and Connor as a duo. Conan has been shot a few times when Gavin and him were a duo. But nothing like that had happened since. Nothing. That was, until that night. Connor was behind Hank. Hank still didn’t understand how it happened. Not many did. Well, besides Conan, who have his intellectual description of what happened, when he was asked. It was the only description that was accurate at the time of Connor’s death. His shut downs 

Hank had banged on the door around eight times, yelling about how he was with the Detroit police and that if the people behind there didn’t open up, that him and his team would come in. It didn’t take long before shuffling feet and bushes murmurs were heard behind the door, crashing and scrambling of them trying to hide whatever shot they had. Hushed yells. It was scary, to say the least. Hank had grumbled a few swear words before Gavin prompted him. “Kick down the door, Hank. We can get them mid act,” it had only taken that small push of logic from Gavin, the most illogical one there, to get them in. Hank had kicked down the door. There had been a scream from a woman, a gun shot, Hank being shoved, and the next thing he knew, he was holding Connor, trying to get his mmm to be as comfortable as possible as he held him.

From a different perspective, the most logical perspective, Conan had seen things much differently. Hank had kicked open the door. A woman had screamed at her child to run, and as the child did so a man came running in. He pulled a gun, pointed it at Hank, and Connor had pushed him out of the way. He’d taken a bullet to the forehead. Androids had components there, vital ones, however, Connor had had time to struggle. Conan has turned up, and grabbed his gun, shooting the man in the knee, and yelling, “hands where I can see them,” and it was over. He’d turned to look at Connor again. Hank was cradling him, his arm around him, as he tried to get Connor’s tie off. Conan has concluded it was to make him more comfortable, as deviants could feel to an extent, however, he didn’t know what good it would do.

From Gavin’s perspective, all he was able to see was Connor. He’d fallen on him, kind of, and Gavin had helped him down, before Hank took him, cradling him. To Hank, it was a flashback. He was pulling cole from underneath the truck, his body messed up, broken. He’d cradled him. Connor wasn’t a replacement, but he sure was similar. The looks. They way he acted, occasionally. Connor was what Hank imagined to be a grown up Cole. But different. Cole’s brother? Wasn’t the point. The point was Connor was dying. And all he could think about was Cole. He was just trying to get Connor to relax st that point. Trying to get him to calm down. Connor had never removed his LED. It was spinning red. He put his hand in his forehead, trying to get him to breathe, to calm. 

Connor was staring at him, taking heaving breaths, tying to say something. He was scared. He’d been shot in a place where he couldn’t just fix. Where his memories where. And now they were fading. He could only remover important people, and soon, it was only his small group of friends, then it was just Hank. Hank was holding him. Would he be the last fave he sees? Would he be the last person he ever thought about? He wouldn’t get a body this time. He has been out of production for five years. Only RK900s were in production still, for police work. And that made him so fucking scared. But there was nothing he could do. Even if he were to be transferred to a new body, it would be a shell with his memories. This was it. He stared at Hank, his mouth closing as he gave up in speaking.

Hank held him as Gavin dragged the pair away. The backup was there. The arrest had been successful. A few were looking at Connor. No one cared about deviants or androids, even if thy had rights, to a lot it just meant they couldn’t abuse them as much. But this scene contained detectives and cops. And anything that contained police instantly made something interesting. Hank holding Connor. Connor’s eyes closing. Coles eyes closing. The end. The time was over. But Hank didn’t let go of Connor’s body. He held him. It would have been abandonment. He couldn’t leave him. He never would. Not until he was made to. He half pulled Connor closer, making sure he was full out of the way. Making sure his limp limbs weren’t in awkward positions. Making sure he was okay. 

 

The following weeks were awful. They consisted of so many nights of crying. It consisted of Connor’s body being taken to Jericho. Where some of his other friends were. Yes, the group of four was the only one Connor had that was close. But he’d helped in the revolution. He’d helped. So he had friends. He had friends that needed to know. On top of that, Jericho was a place for androids. They had places for the fallen. Morgues weren’t for androids. But since Jericho, there had been places for the bodies. People who knew how to take biocomponents out. Androids. They knew how to take cate of their deceased- respect the bodies. Fix any injuries. They had a graveyard, though small, however, Connor wouldn’t be out there. He’d be out in the plot Hank had for his family. Where Cole laid. He wouldn’t let him stay here, but they could take care of him until he was ready for that. 

Conan was carrying his brother as he followed Hank. They’d kept the body in the storage, but Hank had made sure that he was comfortable. Connor was dressed in his sweat pants, and his DPD hoodie he’d gotten on his birthday. He was wrapped in one of Cole’s blankets. The pint was, Hank had made sure he wasn’t kept as evidence. But at the same time, he couldn’t have kept him. They’d taken him from there. A few of the workers had stood upright and saluted. A few scoffed as it was an Android. And a few just offered their condolences to Hank. Hank never said anything. Nor did Conan. Only Gavin would reply. They’d gotten to the car. They’d driven to new Jericho. And now they were there. Hank knocking on the door. Conan carrying his older brother in his arms- that may as well have been his younger- as he stared. 

Markus had answers. Coincidentally, he was the closest to Connor. They’d dated, actually. When Markus was figuring himself out along with Connor. Connor had discovered he was asexual and aromantic, Markus discovered he was bisexual. There was nothing between them but a friendship. A close one. When Markus opened the door he smiled. He looked at Hank, and his smiled faded. Then he looked behind him. And he saw Connor. He backed up and covered his mouth.

New Jericho is what they called the abandoned church they purchased. It was gorgeous. The windows had been replaced with new stained glass windows. They were simple. One had a picture of Markus. One had a depiction of Connor freeing thousands of androids. One had a image of Josh, as a memorial. The final one had a depiction of a human hand and an Android hand shaking, over the hands an Android revolution symbol, and beneath them the hands a world. They had been made during therapy sessions, helping androids cope, and to replace the other windows. In fact, the whole of new Jericho was a lot of therapeutic activities coming together and making the place it was. Half had been cut off for bedrooms, the other was a common room. With books, pianos, a lot of interments, and a lot of art supplies.

It was a nice place. It had been made that way. Markus made it their home. But now he couldn’t care less. He covered his mouth. Connor was dead. He was gone. And he wouldn’t come back. This was awful. He looked back at Hank, who had his head down. Hank was the first to speak, however. “You have a place... Connor told me about it... Connor... he told me once that if something ever happened he’d want to donate his body... the biocomponentthingies. And... you have-“ he couldn’t finish, but Markus just nodded. “Hank... I’ll take care of it... Conan, you guys want to come in? We can... discuss things...” he said, calmly. He slowly opened the door more. That’s when North and Simon saw.

North just covert her mouth. Simon stares. Connor was in the arms of his brother. Hank looked devastated. Connor was fine. Markus motioned for North and Simon to come over. Prior, he gave them an internal message. Markus to North and Simon: [Don’t say anything. Silently take him down to the basement. We talk later.] it was clear. They followed. The second hand man, Simon, walked up, looked up at Conan, before sighing. North followed. She put out her arms. She was stronger than Simon, shockingly. Conan slowly lowered his brother down, placing him into her arms. She struggled for a second, bout Simon kind of helped, starting to slowly help them walk Connor to the basement where they had the set up. 

The following few hours were a blur. But the funeral was discussed, planned, and messages had been sent. And I’m the end. It was all said and done.

 

It was a few weeks after this that, that the funeral was held. Sumo was sitting down, patiently. They were all dressed in black suits and dresses. Connor’s body had already been lowered. And Hank couldn’t even think right. He looked at the two graves. His son’s, his other son’s. There were four pots reserves. One was for sumo, the other was for Hank. The Anderson family. Hank slowly got up. His revolver was in his back pocket. They’d just hurried Connor. Sumo could go to new Jericho to cheer up all of the broken androids from his awful race. The human race. The ones that traumatized those androids. He was quick with his action. The gun in his mouth. The trigger pulled. In front of everyone. It didn’t matter. He didn’t care. He was dead.

 

Hank smiles at his two sons. One grown. One a small kid. They ran up to him, hugging him. And they were back together. And it was okay.


End file.
